Rhys of Arvaria, Sorcerer to the King
by Rachgraceh
Summary: When Rhys learns he is being sent to Bamarre, he is less than pleased, but when he meets Princess Addie, he desides he can more than bear it. ;) We've heard Addie's adventures, now we get to find out how it went with Rhys! And, we will delve into some untold scences that Addie left out! Two Princesses of Bamarre to from Rhys's point of view. T for later chapters
1. Farewell

1

"Well Rhys, have you got everything?" My teacher Orne darkened my room's door, his imposing shadow falling across the floor.

"Yes, thank you Orne." I said, tossing the last article of clothing in, and snapping my carpet bag closed.

"Then you had better be off. It would not do to keep King Lionel waiting."

We stepped to the departure balcony. As if reading my thoughts, which I wouldn't be surprised if the old sorcerer could, Orne said,

"You need not worry about your service to the King of Bamarre. He is an incredible coward, and has some very odd notions, but in all, seems easy to serve."

I nodded, and tried to swallow my nerves. I gave a deep bow of farewell to my master, then, gripping my carpet bag tightly, propelled high into the air, the grand Citadel fading to a tiny dot.

The wind lashed unkindly at my ebony hair. Just wonderful. I would arrive shivering, sweaty, nervous, and on top of it all, windblown enough to look like a bird nested in my hair. I sighed, drawing my heavy cloak nearer. I knew it was customary to serve pompous royalty, but I had no desire to. I would much rather be at the Citadel, learning all sorts of new spells. I sighed again. Oh well. May be there would be something that would make my time there bearable.


	2. Guards and Girls

The Bamarrian Palace loomed huge, magnificent, and VERY well protected. By the first sorcerer's flame, this king must be nothing short of paranoid! I guessed the wall to be twenty feet thick and at LEAST 100 feet high. There were so many guards on the walls you'd have thought they were expecting a siege, not an apprentice sorcerer!

I flew to the gate keeper, high on the wall.

"Hallooooo!" I shouted. The man shrieked, pointing his spear at me, bugged eyed, as though I had grown a third leg. Well, come to think of it, I was flying. But didn't he know that sorcerers could fly? And weren't they expecting one? Maybe if I landed it would put him more at ease. It didn't. Though the man stood his ground as I landed on the wall, I could see his knees knocking together, and his hands shook so hard, his gauntlets crashed and it was a wonder he didn't drop his spear. Good grief I though, Bamarre is filled with cowards! Will the King treat me like I'm a grenade about to explode as well?

I cleared my throat. The simpleton shrieked and jumped back as though I'd burn him. I couldn't suppress an eye roll.

"I am Rhys is of Arvaria, apprentice sorcerer, and servant to the King. "

The buffoon just stood there, shaking like a leaf. After a few moments of listening to his helmet clank loudly against his breast plate, I said,

"The King is expecting me. Could you summon someone to take me to him?"

The idiot continued to shake, and I began to wonder if the man, and I use the term loosely, would ever recover! I sighed.

"Well the least you could do is summon someone to show me to a room. I am rather weary, and the trip here was quite cold."

When he still didn't move, I began to wonder if I'd be there all night. But then I was struck with inspiration.

"You know," I said, smiling evilly at him, "I will be working directly with the King, and as such, I will be well acquainted with your captain." I didn't think his eyes could any bigger, but they did. This was getting amusing.

"I don't think it would bode well for you if I were to mention to him and the King that my first encounter in Bamarre was anything less than what is to be expected for a guest of the King." The guard's eyes were about to pop out of his head. This was going well. I drew myself up to my six feet, five inches, puffed out my chest, and bellowed,

"Now, go alert the appropriate persons to the fact that I am here!"

I fixed a menacing glare at him. With an imperceptible jerk of my hand, I summoned some low hanging clouds to come whirl around my feet. The guard let out a strangled cry, and turning, rushed off, moving in such a strange way as to make me wonder if he had wet himself. I was barely able to restrain my laughter until he was out of ear shot. I had stretched the truth a bit, but it had gotten the job done.

As I watched the blubbering wimp of a man scuttle away, I heard what sounded like smothered giggles off to my left. Looking, I saw a girl leaned against the walls barracks, both hands clamped over her mouth, laughter in her merry silver eyes. The girl rocked back and forth trying to control her giggles. I'm afraid I didn't control my laughter at all, and it made it all the worse for her. When she finally caught her breath she gasped,

"Th-that was brilliantly done!" then she was lost in giggles again. I grinned.

The girl was tall, so it was hard to place her age, but I guessed somewhere from 12 to 14. She was quite pretty, I thought, with her mirthful smile, silvery grey eyes, and chestnut hair that gleamed in the sun. She was dress finely, so I assumed she was of noble blood. Probably one of the many gentry that I knew lived at court. Maybe even an attendant to one of the Princesses.

Not knowing her rank, I bowed low with as many flourishes as I though necessary, even for a Princess.

"I am Rhys of Arvaria, apprentice sorcerer to the King, at your service."

The girl flushed a lovely shade of red, bobbing a little curtsy, still snickering.

"But you told Gus that you where Rhys is of Arvaria, apprentice sorcerer, and _servant_ to the King." She said it shyly, as though she wasn't used to talking to many people.

I shrugged. "I'm still experimenting." I puffed out my chest, feigning pride, "I have to find the one that's most impressive you know!"

She went in to another fit of giggles. I liked her laugh. It was sweet and innocent, and melodic.

"Well," she said after she recovered some composure, "I- I'm glad you taught Gutless Gus a lesson. He-he had it coming to him." She blushed redder, and dropped her gaze.

I was appalled. "Do you actually call him that?" She bobbed her head as though it where the most ordinary thing in the world.

"Everyone does. He's a terrible bully, forever putting spiders, and other unpleasant things where people don't want them, pulling cruel tricks on people smaller than him." She shuddered. Either she didn't like spiders, or she was remembering one of his tricks. "But everyone knows he's a terrible coward. The last time the guards went to fight ogres, he ran away." She shuddered again. "He only keeps his position because his father is captain of the guard."

"Oh, well, I'm glad I could put a bully in his place." She smiled. "May I ask the name of my delightful company?"

She blushed even redder, if that was possible.

"Oh, I'm-"

Just then we heard hurried footsteps coming toward us. With a little shriek, the girl disappeared around a corner of the wall. I was a bit confused at first, after a moment I realized that as a girl of station, which she undoubtedly was, she probably wasn't supposed to be up on the walls. I was rather put out about not learning her name though.

Just then a portly, jolly looking man of about sixty in human years came into view.

"Aw, Master….. Rhys is it?" he wheezed.

"Yes." I bowed with a flourish. The man, seeming surprised that anyone would bow to him, managed a comically awkward bow around his rotund belly.

"Um, I am Havwhick, I will escort you to your room, and you are to call on me if you need anything during your stay here."

"Thank you my good Havwhick," I bowed with extra flourishes to show my gratitude. The now flustered Havwhick managed another stiff bow before motioning me to follow, and teetering off down the walk of the wall. He reminded me of a child's stuffed bear. I chuckled. The people here where certainly interesting, even if they were said to be cowards.


	3. Corridors, Curtains, and Quills

Havwhick rumbled, and flustered as he bumbled his way down the many palace corridors. Though whether he was speaking to me, or himself, I could not tell. I caught, not word. Several times he seemed to forget where he was. He would abruptly stop, look around, turn in a circle, then, suddenly remember what he was doing and continue waddling with an "Oh, this way, this way!" I didn't mind the first half hour, as the halls where brightly lit with sunlight streaming through high arched windows, and the walls were hung with rich tapestries depicting all sorts of scenes. Scenes of dragons, specters luring prey, Kings of old fighting giant serpents, and out witting ogres; even a unicorn hunt. But the ones I liked the best were the ones that depicted scenes from Drualt, Bamarre's most famous epic, well known all the kingdoms round. The poem has always been a favorite of mine, and these tapestries, which looked newer than the rest, depicted them so realistically. Several times, I stopped to examine them, much to Havwhick's chagrin. I couldn't get over how life-like they looked. As I stopped once again to examine, I could have sworn if I stared hard enough, Drualt would break free from his stitches, brandish his sword and cockily proclaim:

"Now carve my sword.

Now bite, my arrows.

Now die my enemy.

Victory for Bamarre!"

I was so caught up in my reverie, I didn't realize how long I'd been gawking until Havwhick huffed and offered,

"Those are Princess Adelina's works."

I stared at him blankly.

"Princess Adelina. The ones with Drualt in them are hers."

I pointed at the tapestry, not quite sure I understood.

"You mean….. She made them?"

"Of course!"

I gazed back at the tapestry with renewed awe. I had a sudden excited urge to meet its creator. I knew the Princess was quite young. I couldn't imagine such a work of art, so full of emotion and depth contrived by someone so young and inexperienced in the world.

"Master Rhys, if you please, I would very much like to have supper soon."

I tore myself away from the hanging and fell into step behind him again.

_Missing one supper probably wouldn't hurt him too badly, _I smirked to myself.

We continued as we did before, Havwhick still forgetting where he was every now and again. But this second half hour was far more tedious. We had left the bright, lavishly decorated part of the palace, and had descended into a maze of gloomy dark corridors. I hate gloomy. The walls where an ominous black, as opposed to the glossy white marble of early. There were torches mounted on the walls, but they were few and far between. After Havwhick smacked into the wall for the third time, I used my baton, setting the stone on the top end to glow so we could see. I felt like I was being lead to the dungeon. My feet would have been crying out in misery, had I not been floating just a hair.

Just as I began to the think the addle brained man have gotten us hopelessly lost, he uttered an "Ah! Here we are at last!"

We began to climb a wide spiral stair case, seemingly up into a tower. There where doors at every landing. Some were open a bit, and I could see light streaming though. How I wanted to burst out into that light, but on we went. Up, and up, and up. The sound of his footsteps was soon drowned out by his gasps for breath. I didn't know what I would do if he passed out. He would probably fall backward, and crush me if I tried to catch him. Thank the first sorcerer's flame, I had magic if the need arose.

We finally reached the very top of the stairs, where there was a small space, and huge door. Havwhick heaved it open with a groan, and stumbled in, huffing and puffing quite impressively.

The vast chamber was dimly lit with five candles, but there were hundreds more in candelabras about the room. With a flick of my baton, all the candles flared, bathing the room in a cheery glow. Havwhick gasped, at the sudden influx of light, jumping several inches! (Which was quite impressive for his bulk.)

Quickly collecting himself, he said between wheezes,

"Your chambers are just are just as your predecessor left them. I hope they will be satisfactory?"

I scanned the near circular room. It was very finely furnished, with a lab, large washing area, writing desk, sizable armoire, a huge high arched window, an enormous canopy bed, shelves and shelves of books, fire place, and a large table occupying the vast open space in the middle. Very, very fine. But, the whole room was done in black, and deep, deep blue! The walls were draped in heavy black cloth, the canopy, dark blue velvet. The upholstery, black and blue brocade, the rugs that littered the floor, black! And the window was hung with hideous black and blue stripped curtains! It was enough to send a person into deep depression! I was definitely in for some redecorating. I didn't tell Havwhick that of course.

"Yes, it's wonderful! Thank you!"

Havwhick grunted, nodding to a tray on the table in the middle of the room.

"Your supper is there. I will be here, bright and early in the morning to escort you to the King."

Didn't these people know that sorcerers didn't need to eat? Perhaps they were just being polite. I nodded my thanks, and Havwhick quickly left.

Ignoring the tray of undoubtedly cold supper, I walked slowly around the room, examining everything. The sorcerer before me must have had no imagination, or personality! It reminded me of Orne.

Pulling aside those dreadful curtains, I gazed out into the palace gardens. In the day time, it would be a fantastic view, but the sun had set during our long walk.

I decide to do over the room flashy red and gold, just as my chambers at the citadel had been.

"I'll start with these criminal curtains! They need to be burned immediately!" I said aloud, giving them a jerk. I stepped quickly aside, as the curtain rod just barely missing my head.

I gathered them up, and carrying them across the room to the fire place, thrusting the offending fabric in. Narrowing my eyes at the cloth, I concentrated hard. It started to smoke, then burst into flames!

I stood back, quite pleased with myself. The last time I'd tried that, I'd only succeeded in burning off half my eyebrows!

I stepped over to where my bag sat on the table. Reaching in, I pulled out a tiny set of brilliant red curtains. Whispering an undoing spell, they began to grow rapidly. I sent them flying towards the window, the curtain rod soaring up to meet them.

Looking about again, I decided I could use most everything else in the room; I just needed to change the color. With a jerk of my baton, the carpets became red, the wall hangings, gold and red at intervals, and the canopy, gold outside, red inside.

I grinned. So much better! I rather liked the fleur-de-lis pattern on the upholstery and bed spread, so I merely changed the color there too.

After a few more color adjustments, and some other depressing objects met their fiery fate, I began to unshrink my belongings, and send them flying around the room, landing in their desired resting places.

By the time I finally finished my redecorating, and unpacking it had to be close to three in the morning.

My back ached, and the muscles in my arms screamed, while needles seemed to pierce my skin. I was not used to using magic for such an extended period of time. I had had a long journey, and had traveled a very long distance very, very quickly. Orne would be angry. I plodded wearily over to the bed, and sank down wearily.

While sorcerers are incapable of sleep, we find beds useful for rest, and trancing. I chuckled to myself, thinking of the lecture Orne had given me, not long before leaving, about trancing. Sorcerers only need to trance when they need healing, when they grossly over use their powers, over when they over exert their body for a long period of time. Trancing is as close to human sleeping as a sorcerer can get. We look like we're asleep, but we're only slightly less aware than we would be normally. Though the deepness all depends on the need, and the sorcerer. Orne trances very lightly no matter how much he needs it. I could pull him out just by dropping a piece of parchment! I, on the other hand, trance very deeply, and people often have trouble pulling me out of it, if I don't what to come out.

With my work, I have a tendency to overdo. To not stop anything until it's all done, whether it be reading the three-hundred books Orne has assigned, mastering a new spell, or when I was younger, moving water from one cistern to another, bucket by bucket. I would often have to trance for a day or so, to make up for days and days of constant work, which would drive Orne crazy.

_Well, I certainly deserve to trance for at least a few hours before Havwhick comes back,_ I thought, flopping back, into the pillows.

I grimaced.

Feather pillows.

I hate them!

The quill part always sticks into your cheek, or eye, or mouth, and you spend all the time you are supposed to be trancing pulling them out through the weave of the pillow case! Not to mention, they smell horrible! Like rotten hay, and a chamber pot that hadn't been changed in days!

Moaning unhappily, I climbed out of bed, and tromped over to the window. Pushing it open, I pulled out my baton, and coaxed down a lonely cloud, from where it had been caressing the moon.

Forming it into a large pillow, I headed back to the monstrosity that was my bed. I neatly arranged the cloud pillow, and lay down again, but not before I sent the other pillows, or shall I say, the smelly remains of a chicken coop, to the fire.

Sighing contentedly, I relaxed into the mattress. I wondered absently if the silver eyed girl I'd met earlier liked feather pillows with their pokey quills. Maybe I could make her one of my cloud pillow specialties; maybe she'd kiss my cheek in thanks, looking up at me adoringly. Wait! My eyes snapped open. What had triggered that thought!? I shook my head to clear it. That girl I'd met on the wall, she was a child!

_For goodness Rhys!_ I chided myself. _What would Orne say?_

I closed my eyes again. I knew I should probably think of some way to prove myself to the King but my thoughts went to Princess Adelina, and her marvelous tapestries. I couldn't wait to meet her. To create with such emotion and feeling as she did, she must be of great intelligence and definite creativity. It was her I hoped to somehow impress, though I didn't know why. She was just a girl. Oh well, I would sort out my disorganized thoughts and feelings later.

With another sight of contentment, I let myself slip into a trance. Scenes of drualt played out on stitched tapestries, snippets of the poem, the youngest princess, and images of the girl with silver eyes flitting through my mind. Maybe Bamarre wouldn't be so bad after all.


End file.
